Cats and Broomsticks: The Men Who Play Quidditch
by Chase DeCadium
Summary: 2nd Fic: Well, here I go again. I made a new charicter, and I'm annyoing everyone. It's the first in five *books* with five chapters. It's a whole new Draco/?/Harry fight . . . when does it all end? Sheesh. Title after a very wonderful book I made up. You


Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Veoletta, Gigi, Vito, and Zhivago. They are mine, and as for the rest? J.K. Rowling's. So don't steal any of them! I really didn't make them, honestly!  
  
Dedication: To my best bud Becca, who has no idea about this story or the fact it's dedicated to her.  
  
Notes: Well, I rated this story R for it's er - intimate moments between Veoletta, Harry, and the rest of the couples. In this story, the year is 2011, meaning the clan is oh, around 25 years old? So they're adults now, all grown up, and they'll act like that in this story. Sorry if I get all repetitive, there's just some really stong words in here that I really like, so I use them a lot. Thanks to Renee for the idea of Veoletta's name.  
  
P.S.: Veoletta's name is, in fact, from my favorite movie, Hear My Song. The name of the theme is Hear My Song, Veoletta. I really like that name and Veoletta Malfoy or Veoletta Potter sounds nice. Unlike Fleur Potter or Ginny Malfoy or something icky like those . . . ONTO THE STORY! Sheesh . . .  
  
  
  
Veoletta, or as her friends call her, Veola, was striding up and down the corridor. She just couldn't stop thinking about the horrific afternoon. It was all her fault, or course. Harry had been sick and she had no business letting him fly in this weather. Really stupid of me, she thought, sitting down only when the old witch setting behind the desk gave her a look like sit down, dear, or you'll worry your heart out. Well, my words exactly, thought Veola, looking at the silver door in which, hours before, they had whisked Harry though.  
  
"Veola? Are you okay? How's Harry? What happened?" Ron and Hermione were fighting to get through the door.  
  
"Nothing so far, guys. They've had him cooped up in there for hours. I don't know what's going on or anything," she answered, tears threatening her eyes. Hermione noticed this quickly.  
  
"Oh, it's not your fault, Veo. It's just Harry's. He was the one who decided to go. It certainly wasn't yours. All we heard was that he fell off. What really happened?" she asked sweetly.  
  
"Well, I was just sitting down. Box seat, you know. And after a few minutes into the game, I got pretty cold. I turned around to turn the heat up and I heard Bobby yell for me. I saw Harry, on the ground, surrounded by Mediwizards. I just didn't know what happened, Bobby told me he dove for the Snitch and crashed. Like, really crashed. Firebolt split in half, clean. I was so scared. Bobby brought me here. Told me that they brought Harry here. He said it didn't look good, that he had broken his leg, nose, five ribs and sprained his wrist. Now they won't tell me anything. For all I know, Harry's dead!" she managed to say though wracking sobs.  
  
"Veo, it's not your fault. You just weren't looking, it helped, you didn't have to see it," Ron said, sitting on her left side. Veola just choked up and glimpsed at the secretary before crumbling into tears again.  
  
*******  
  
It was midnight, and Veoletta was sitting in the same chair, nose in a book. She was reading up on Cats and Broomsticks: Men and the Sport of Qudditch. She looked up injuries and saw only famous deaths. She wracked up some more sobs at the thought or her Harry, dead. Suddenly, a tired, middle aged doctor strode out of the emergency room door.  
  
"Miss Locke?" he asked, his voice certainly not hiding anything: Harry was just fine. Veola smiled and stood up.  
  
"Yes, that's me. Is Harry alright?" she asked, wanting to clear her assumptions up.  
  
"Yes, yes, he's doing just fine. Didn't break a thing but his finger. Sprained his ankle, yes, but he's just fine," he said, beaming. Veo had the urge to kiss the doctor and hen decided to save it for Harry.  
  
"Can I see him?" she asked tentitively. The man nodded and beckoned her in. He led her up a flight of stairs and down a neat, white hallway with many doors. He led her to the last one and opened the door for her.  
  
What she saw next was a sight. Not the unconscious, bleeding Quidditch player she saw last, but a healthy, flushed young man. A bright smile cracked her sullen face and she ran over to him, tears spilling down her face. She grabbed him and held him with all in her.  
  
"Harry, I thought you'd died," she whispered.  
  
"Not before you, love," he answered, stroking her hair. She pulled up and saw that there was nothing about his face different. His hair was still messy and ebony, his eyes still bottle green and caring. His smile, still warm and white. She planted a small kiss on his lips before sighing deeply.  
  
"I love you, Harry. I was just so worried." She whispered, knowing the walls were paper-thin and that everyone else was sleeping.  
  
"I love you too, Ve." Harry was the only one who could call her Ve, or she would throw a fit.  
  
"When do they let you out?" she asked tensly.  
  
"Oh, tommorow I guess. Maybe longer, they want to run tests on my frigging eyes. They think I shouldn't be wearing contacts. They think I should be wearing glasses again. They also think my contacts weren't working the rain and that's why I did a nose dive. I'm sorry for scaring you, Ve." He replied in a nonchalant tone.  
  
"Don't be sorry, Harry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you play, no matter what, in this storm. It was stupid of me," she said, kissing him again. He grinned at her.  
  
"Yeah, but what could you do about it? You know I wouldv'e gone anyways. I'm the Captain, yes, but I'd be in a whole crapload of trouble if I missed a game without warning. You know I can't ever skip. By the way, was Draco there?" he asked. Veo looked him over, a little frightened.  
  
"I'm not sure. He probably was, he'd never miss a chance to hit you with a Bludger like in second year," she replied, hushing her tone slightly.  
  
"Why does he hate me though? Just because I wanted to be friends with Ron, too. Now he leaps at every chance to hurt me," Harry trailed off, still staring stonely at Veo.  
  
"You know why he hates you. It's because of me and my foolish decitions. I always choose the way my heart goes, not my brain," she muttered, tearing her eyes away from those emeralds in shame.  
  
"But your heart didn't tell you to let him go. That was my heart," he whispered, touching her cheek. His hards were cold, and a chill ran down her spine. To this, she could only nod gently. She was speechless. Never had she heard Harry say it was his fault . . . he usually took the blame for things, but this had washed over.  
  
*******  
  
It was seventh year at Hogwarts, and Veo was a Ravenclaw. Now, I'm not going to beat around the bush. She was being fought over by Harry and Draco. It was her own fault. Fifth year, Dumbledore had decided to throw a Yule Ball for every year to come, Triwizard Tournament or not. That year, Veo went with Draco Malfoy, whom her father had told her was the right thing to do.  
  
"Comes from a good family, that Malfoy. Wish you would just get it over with and marry the fellow. He's rich, he'd give a good life for you, darling," were her daddy's excact words, and so she went with him. Unfortunately, she had deep feelings for Harry Potter, and that night, she did something she would never, ever forgive herself for. For two reasons; one, seventeen year old girls just did not do that: she was a whore in her own mind. Two, she loved Harry. That night, as you can probably figure out by now, she had slept with Draco.  
  
She shuddered at the mere thought of his face now. The way she was dejected by everyone in her life except her family and Draco's. Everyone was so proud of her, congratulating her. And the praise for Malfoy. Oh, everyone went into such raptures over him that you'd imagine he'd just become the bloody king of the world. And him, always winking at her and strutting around the castle, looking ever so pleased with himself.  
  
She graduated with a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Everything around her seemed to go black as she set in her own compartment on the train. Then, the door had opened. She remembered that moment well . . . *flashback . . . *  
  
"Mmm. Locke, are you still brooding about that night?" asked a particularly slimy voice she knew all too well.  
  
"Draco, why don't you leave? You're not wanted here!" she had whispered. He just strode over, that horrible look in his eyes. Like he wanted to kill something, yet his kiss was going to do just that. Suddenly, Harry had burst through the door.  
  
"She's right, you coward. Just get out, no one wants a bit of filth like you here," he had snarled. What happened was the first time she ever saw Harry get hurt; or Draco do something quite so evil.  
  
"Crucio!" he murmured, just loud enough for Harry and Veo to hear. Harry had dove out of the way in time, but Veo imagined that she might have been killed as well if he hadn't. No one knew or told what happened. It was all a secret, but Harry didn't know after long. The thought of someone trying to hurt him like that obviously danced out fof his mind. It was a horrible thing, and Ve vowed to never go near him again.  
  
So ends chapter one. Nothing really happened here, did it now? They'll be more spice, I daresay, in the next chapter. AND DON'T ANYONE THINK SNAPE IS DEAD! HE, LUPIN, AND SIRIUS WILL ALL APPEAR LATER . . . WITH A SPECIAL GUEST WHOM WE ALL DID THINK IS DEAD. NO! NOT LILY OR JAMES POTTER! SOMEONE else . . .  
  
*cough*Lucius*cough*  
  
Thanks for no betas, since I have NO CLUE what they are!  
  
TTFN, Cheezie Chase 


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